


Cold Obsession

by CrownedAnxietyAttack



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blow Jobs, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Incest, M/M, NSFW, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 01:25:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6218188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrownedAnxietyAttack/pseuds/CrownedAnxietyAttack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stan was enjoying a bright red popsicle, and enjoying it a lot.  Ford’s eyes studied the sweet treat and swallowed again.  It was a nicely sized one.  Thick enough to stretch Stan’s lips and long enough to reach the back of his throat and still have more to push inside.  Ford shook his head.  That was not how you described food.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Obsession

**Author's Note:**

> A while back I had found a screenshot of Pilot Stanley eating/sucking on a bunch of popsicles/sticks and it just got out of hand from there on.
> 
> (Originally written on my blog, stan-prompts.)

A loud sigh was dragged out from Ford’s lips as he scrubbed his face harshly with both hands while he walked down the once familiar halls of the shack. He knew that the shack was going to have changed, but what Stan had done was ridiculous. _Sascrotch_. That’s all Ford had to say about it.

It was amazing people even fell for junk like that without hypnotism involved. He couldn’t believe people actually _did_.

Ford couldn’t bee too angry, though. Stan had actually been very careful with his stuff. Every experiment had been carefully moved into a private room where no one seemed to enter. His lab was in perfect condition as well, except from a sizable ding in a metal cabinet, but Ford wasn’t completely sure that it happened after he disappeared. He was just glad that Stan hadn’t thrown anything out. Not only were they all important to him, after all he spent a long time working on each and every one of them, but if someone had gotten a hold of them and used them improperly...

Ford shivers. Things would’ve been _messy_ to say in the least.

Ford dropped his hands from his face as he turned to walk into the living room and froze at the top of the steps. Stan was slouching lazily in his chair, legs stretched out and spread wide as he stared at the TV in complete boredom. He was still wearing his work ensemble minus the suit jacket and fez. The three top buttons of his shirt were undone and his tie laying limply around his neck, revealing the hairy chest that laid beneath and the shining gold necklace around his neck. Ford swallowed. His brother’s presence hadn’t stopped him from entering the room. He couldn’t have given a shit about Stan being there. It was what Stan was _doing_ that stopped him.

Stan was enjoying a bright red popsicle, and enjoying it _a lot_. Ford’s eyes studied the sweet treat and swallowed again. It was a nicely sized one. Thick enough to stretch Stan’s lips and long enough to reach the back of his throat and still have more to push inside. Ford shook his head. That was not how you described food.

“Stan? What are you doing up this late?” Ford asked curtly. He mentally winced. He hadn’t meant to come across so rude. He was being defensive over his own thoughts, which was _stupid_ because Stan couldn’t read his mind. As far as he knew.

Stan’s eyes tore away from the TV screen and stared up at Ford. Ford’s heart lurched in his chest as his brother’s eyes bore into his. They were still that chocolate brown he’d always had. Granted, time had given him a heaping helping of cataracts and had turned his eyes slightly blue, but they were still warm and comforting and beautiful. Just with a small universe in the center.

Stan smirked at his brother and slowly dragged the cold treat from his mouth, his tongue peaking out from the corner of his mouth to run along the side of the popsicle. Ford felt himself blush as he watched Stan suck hard on the tip and give it a loving lick before finally pulling away.

“What’s a matter, Ford? You gonna give me a bedtime now?” Stan asked teasingly. Ford scowled as Stan snickered at his angered expression. Stanley twitched his wrist a certain way and Ford’s scowl dropped the moment that popsicle was back on his brother’s lips. Stan pressed it against his lips before opening his mouth and letting the desert slide right in. Stan sucked hard on the popsicle when he felt the juices threaten to drip onto his hand, a single drop managing to slide down his thumb and down his wrist. Ford gulped when he heard Stan moan and push the popsicle in deeper. There was no way he actually ate popsicles like that.

“Stan, stop that. It’s indecent,” Ford said, finally walking down the steps into the living room.

Stan raised a brow and pulled the popsicle from his mouth with a lewd and wet,  _slurp_ and _pop_.

“What’re you talkin’ about, poindexter? I’m just eating a damn popsicle,” Stan snorted.

Ford’s lips tightened into a hard frown. Stan caught the look and smirked, placing the end of the treat in his mouth and sucked hard, his cheeks hollowing at the force. Ford bushed and looked away, holding his head high as he walking past his brother and approached the kitchen. He had no actual reason for going there, but if it kept him from seeing Stan do _that_ and keep dangerous ideas out of his head, he would live in that kitchen. Stan moaned loudly and Ford froze in the kitchen doorway. He braced his hand on the door frame and dug his fingers into the wood as he dared to look over his shoulder.

It was instantly a bad idea.

Stan was sucking hard on the tip of the cherry popsicle with his tongue dashing out to cover it in slobbering licks. His lips were stained bright red, matching the color on his tongue and the dyed tips of his fingertips.

Ford’s breath hitched as his nails clawed at the door frame.

Stan moaned again as he licked the underside of the popsicle, his free hand brushing up his own thigh and cupping the front of his pants, palming himself through the black material.

A whine scrambled to climb out of Ford’s throat but he managed to keep himself quiet as he watched his brother touch himself.

Stan groaned and rolled his hips, grinding into his hand as his pushed the popsicle further into his mouth.

Ford cursed under his breath and turned to watch his brother directly.

Stan glanced at him from the corner of his eye and smirked, pressing the popsicle in deeper and moaning as he hollowed out his cheeks and sucked _hard_.

Ford gulped, unable to stop watching as Stan’s fingers pulled his belt loose and quickly undid the front of his pants.

He was _hard_.

Ford felt his own breathing become heavy as he stared at Stan’s crotch. His cock was straining in his boxers, creating a bulge that was hard to miss. And he was _big_. Ford had seen how much he was carrying when they were young, sure, but this was very different. What he had now was thicker and much larger than what he’s seen before.

Stan groaned as he lifted his hips and pushed his pants down to about mid-thigh and he took hold of his cock. Ford's eyes widened and he threw a hand over his mouth to stifle a groan. Stan moaned around the popsicle as he began thrusting the treat in and out of his mouth, stroking himself in sync with the thrusts. Red juices dripped from Stan’s lips and chin, dropping onto his white shirt below.

“You should take them off.”

Stan paused in his actions and glanced over at his brother.

Ford stood stalk still. His eyes were cold and calculating as they examined Stan, his gaze shooting lust down his spine.

Stan pulled the popsicle out of his mouth with a loud, wet slurp and smirked as his brother, “What was that?”

Ford slowly approached Stan until he was standing right in front of him, towering over his slumped figure. “You’re clothes. You’re going to ruin them if you keep them on,” Ford replied.

Stan chuckled and his smirk widened. “Hmmm, I’m not too concerned about it. And if I remember correctly, you’re quite a fan of dirty things,” Stan said, licking his lips. He slipped the popsicle back in his mouth and started stroking his cock, his stretched lips curving slightly when he noticed the bulge in his brother’s pants. Ford’s hand reached out and smacked Stan’s hand away from the popsicle, making Stan frown grumpily. That is, until Ford grabbed the end of the stick and pushed the desert forward, hitting the back of Stan’s throat.

“Umfff! Hnngh~,” Stan moaned, trying to speak but ultimately giving up when he felt the icy tip of the popsicle hit the back of his throat.

“At least unbutton your shirt. Less of a chance that you’ll ruin it,” Ford said. He pulled the popsicle back and shoved it forward, hitting the back of Stan’s throat again and making him moan.

Stan let go of his twitching cock and frantically tugged at his shirt, nearly ripping it open in his rush to do as Ford ordered. Once Stan finished unbuttoning his shirt, his arms reached out for Ford’s hips but paused in uncertainty and quickly redirected to the arms of the chair.

Ford licked his lips at the sight before him. Stan was tearing at the upholstery, his knuckles and fingertips turning white as he took thrust after thrust from the desert. The popsicle was melting rapidly, the sticky and syrup filled liquid dripped down onto his chin. Some sliding down his neck and some falling onto his hairy chest. God that chest. It was so hairy. More than it was when they were teenagers. His stomach was just as hairy and the sight of his fat stomach made Ford groan. Admittedly, seeing his brother’s hard cock was another factor into groaning. It was thick and heavy looking, he honestly didn’t know how it was holding itself up, even if it was hard. And it was leaking _a lot_.

“Ghnn~! Hnnh~! Mmmhh-mfff~!” Stan moaned as he bobbed his head since Ford distracted himself and neglected his duties. Stan was more than eager to take over. However, before Stan could get serious, Ford suddenly ripped the half-eaten and half-melted popsicle out of his mouth and tossed it aside.

“Hey! I wasn’t done with that!” Stan snapped.

Ford grabbed his jaw and yanked him forward into a hard kiss, quickly shutting him up. Stan moaned and tangled his fingers in his brother’s hair, pulling him closer. Ford brushed his tongue over Stan’s stained lips, growling when he heard his brother groan. He squeezed Stan’s jaw tightly, forcing him to open his mouth and allow Ford to taste the cherry flavor on his tongue. Stan whined and let Ford do whatever he wanted, melting faster in his hands than the popsicle did in his mouth. But the kiss didn’t last for long. Ford pulled back and shoved Stan away roughly. Stan whined at the loss of contact but his brother ignored his pathetic pleads. Ford unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, sighing in relief when his erection was given room to breathe. He smirked down at Stan who had given up on the pathetic routine and was now staring intently at his cock and drooling. Ford grabbed Stan’s hair in a hard grip and yanked him forward, burying his face in his crotch.

“Suck,” Ford ordered.

Stan smirked and tilted his head to look up at his brother. “Are bossy words the only thing ya got? You’ve lost your edge, Ford,” he scoffed.

Ford tightened his grip on Stan’s hair and pulled his head back further, exposing his neck. He slipped his thumb in Stan’s mouth and forced it open, pressing down on his cold, red tongue. He pressed the head of his cock on his brother's tongue and stared deep into Stanley's lustful eyes. Stanley let out a breathy moan as his tongue molded with the tip of his brother's cock and lovingly massaged it with a smile on his face. Ford angled his hips and thrusted deep in Stan’s mouth, hitting the back of his throat hard. Stan let out a groaning whine as tears sprung into his eyes and he swallowed as drool fell from the corners of his mouth. Stanford's cock was much bigger than a popsicle.

“That ought to keep you quiet,” Ford purred. He pulled his hips back and snapped them forward, pulling a moan from Stan’s throat. Ford hissed. It had been a _really_ long time since he’s last done something like this. And Stan’s mouth was so _warm_ and _wet_.

“Fuck,” Ford groaned as he thrusted into Stan’s mouth again.

Stan moaned and opened his mouth wider, allowing Ford to press every inch of his cock into his throat. His hands grabbed on tightly to Ford’s hips and dug his nails into his skin, silently urging him to move again. He didn’t need any more encouragement. Ford set a rough pace, giving him hardly any time to breath in between thrusts. Stan didn’t care. He loved the way Ford’s cock controlled him so easily. He nearly worshiped it. The way it throbbed on his tongue and made his knees shake. His girth and the way it filled his mouth and throat made his own cock twitch in appreciation. And the _taste_. Stan moaned and helped Ford thrust into his mouth by guiding his hips. God the taste. So _bitter_ and _salty_ , so different from the cherry popsicle that he still can taste on his tongue. Fuck he loved it. Stan moaned and moved one of his hands to his own cock, stroking his throbbing erection in sync with Ford’s thrusts. He felt Ford fingers tighten in his hair as he moaned loudly. He was getting close. And there was so much pre-cum already dripping down his throat. _Fuck_. Stan moaned as his hips jerked and he came. Cum landed on his black pants and his own hand, some even reaching far enough to soak into Ford’s pants as well. He hoped he got in trouble for that later. Ford moaned, having seen Stan cum, knowing he was close. Stan hummed and grabbed Ford’s hips with both hands, helping him thrust into his mouth as his movement became unsteady. He was really close. Two more thrusts and Stan’s throat massaging his cock sent him over the edge.

“ _Fuck_! Holy _shit_ ,” Ford hissed, his fingers tightening in Stan’s hair. Stan moaned as cum quickly filled his mouth, bubbling at his lips and running down his chin. He swallowed, his sore throat struggling to take all of the cum that was filling his mouth. Fuck, how much did he have? Stan finally had to pull back and coughed hard, Ford’s last spurts of cum landing on his face. Ford groaned once he was done and loosened his grip on Stan hair, taking a wobbling step back. Stan swallowed one last time and took in deep breaths.

“Holy shit, poindexter. How long has it been since you jacked off, yeesh,” Stan said, voice rougher than usual and cutting in and out.

Fuck that was hot. Ford stared down at Stan, covered in sweat and cum, not all of which was his. His hair was a rumpled mess from Ford’s grip and his face was dripping with cum, some sliding down the lenses of his glasses. _Shit_.

“God you’re so disgusting,” Ford said, yanking Stan into a rough kiss, licking his own cum off of his brother’s face and from inside his mouth. Fuck, _everything_ they were doing was so _dirty_ and it was driving Ford wild. They split apart to breath and Stan smirked as he raised a brow.

“I’m disgusting? You fucked my mouth with a damn desert and then with your own cock,” Stan chuckled darkly.

“Shut the fuck up,” Ford snarled, smashing his lips against Stan’s for another harsh kiss.


End file.
